


Desperation

by kell_be_belle



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-28
Updated: 2019-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-24 19:14:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22003060
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kell_be_belle/pseuds/kell_be_belle
Summary: Kaz Brekker never imagined he would find himself hopelessly in love, let alone with the Wraith. Unable to contain his feelings and unsure how to confess them, a desperate Kaz seeks help from his fellow crows. But he may have gotten more than he bargained for.
Relationships: Jesper Fahey/Wylan Van Eck, Kaz Brekker/Inej Ghafa
Comments: 7
Kudos: 130
Collections: Grishaverse Big Bang 2019





	Desperation

In all his life, Kaz Brekker could only recall three instances where he had found himself feeling truly desperate. The first time had been when he had awakened on the Reaper’s Barge, tossed mercilessly amongst the foul, festering corpses without regard for the life to which he still clung. Using his own brother’s rotting corpse as a flotation device was an act of survival and one whose consequences echoed well into his present.

The second time had been on the flat shores of Vellgeluk after their harrowing escape from the Frjedan Ice Court; watching as his meticulously orchestrated plans crumbled between his leather gloved hands. Four million kruge gone. His team weary and in varying stages of unraveling. Inej small and limp like a child’s doll in the arms of the Squaller as she disappeared over the distant horizon. How hollow he had felt. The fire inside him temporarily extinguished leaving him teetering on the very edge of collapse.

The third time was now as he sat perched on the sofa of the Van Eck mansions’ lavish parlor. Kaz had made it a personal policy of his to spend as little time as he could at the estate. Had he been Wylan, he probably would have seen the place burned to the foundation long ago. Something so absurdly ostentatious had no business existing. The furniture was too plush, the wallpaper too colorful, the floral arrangements too plentiful and pungent. Kaz would take the hollow under a bridge long before this monstrosity. 

Jesper Fahey, however, was in his glory. 

Jesper was swathed in a rich velvet smoking jacket, the sleeves embroidered with shimmering gold thread. He cradled a glass of deeply colored wine in the curve of one hand. He pinched a thin cigarillo between the fingers of the other. His grin was oil slick and smug as a gambler on a hot streak as he took a drag of the cigarillo and breathed it’s sweet smoke back into the even sweeter air. 

“Ah Kaz,” he purred, the smoke standing white against the richness of his Zemeni skin. “I’ve been wondering when you would finally grow the dice to come seeking my expertise.” He swung one spindly leg over the other in a high arc and the wine sloshed in his glass like a small sea.

Kaz allowed himself the momentary pleasure of imagining knocking out Jesper’s obnoxiously white teeth with the head of his cane. The leather of his gloves creaked as his grip on said cane tightened. “Well… here I am,” he rasped. “And with the dice I assure you I had long before today.” 

“Oh no doubt, but I assure you that having the dice to con the most powerful man in Ketterdam and having the dice to do this takes two totally different sets.”

Kaz clenched his jaw and teeth, like his gloves, creaked menacingly. “Enough with this ridiculous euphemism. Is the deal the deal?” 

“Oh, you mean right now?” Jesper quiried. His attempt at a poker face was pathetic as ever. It was no wonder he lost so frequently. “It’s just... you’ve never come to me to help with this sort of thing and I’m finding myself… overwhelmed with emotion.” It was some emotion, but it certainly wasn’t something as innocent as love for a friend. 

Shame burned white hot under Kaz’s skin. He knew full well that the request he was making was unorthodox if not hideously pathetic. However, that did not mean that he had to sit here and suffer mockery from the likes of Jesper Fahey. “That’s it. We’re done here.” He rasped, his coat surging around him like the tides of a stormy sea as he took up his cane and limped defiantly towards the door. 

Jesper sprang from the couch like a tightly wound coil. He had wanted to have his fun, but he hadn’t meant to drive Kaz away. “No, no wait!” he squawked, scrambling to place his wine glass safely on the side table so he could pursue the retreating Kaz. “C’mon Kaz, I was just fooling arou-!” Jesper clapped a hand on Kaz’s shoulder.

He couldn’t have made a bigger mistake. 

Even on his best days, Kaz struggled to cope with the trauma of his childhood. Today was most certainly not what he would consider one of his best. Instinct took hold and wielded him like a marionette. He twisted around and snatched Jesper’s arm with the speed of a striking viper. He wrenched it backwards and the joint of the Zemeni’s shoulder groaned in its socket. Kaz was not a hesitant fighter. On the streets of Ketterdam, hesitation brought certain death. Within a heartbeat, he hefted his cane and lifted it in a high arc with the steel crows head aimed to strike. “K-Kaz please! Wait!” 

Realization washed over him and Kaz snapped back to his senses as if plunged into the canal midwinter. His eyes flickered up to see his cane; the steelhead glinting in the light of the crystal chandelier. A star teetering on the edge of the heavens. A meteor set on destruction. Kaz released Jesper with little grace and the Zemeni fell on all fours with a gasp of relief. Jesper rolled his shoulder and winced. “Saints, Kaz… I wouldn’t have teased you had I known it would entail an attempt on my life…” 

Kaz made no remark, only blinked tiredly down at Jesper before he turned and slunk away; pushing a hand through the sheaf of his dark hair. Why was he even here? Seeking Jesper out had been a thoughtless idea and his regret was palpable. There was only a small handful of people Kaz dared to consider comrades, but still he kept them at arm's length. It was smart. It was safe. Making Jesper privy to this information was a betrayal of his most sacred of rules- never expose your weaknesses. 

Jesper recovered with the kind of ease that only he could manage, smoothing the lapels of his smoking jacket and picking up his cigarillo from where it was smoldering feebly on the carpet. The Zemeni perched it back between his lips and took a long drag. He breathed the sweet smoke back into the parlor. “Boy… it’s worse than I thought. How long has it been?” 

Kaz pressed his lips together, “Much longer than I care to admit.” 

“You make it sound like you have some kind of disease,” Jesper chuckled watching the smoke tendrils dance into the air above him.“It’s only love, Kaz.” 

Even the word made Kaz’s stomach twist. Love. What even was love? It was something that he might have known at one time, but was so distant in his past it may as well have been another lifetime. The concept was so foreign to him now that he struggled to understand where and when it had managed to entrap him like a rabbit in a snare. 

Inej. Kaz loved Inej. 

Somehow, this Suli girl had managed to wheedle her way under his carefully structured armor. He should have just been able to swallow it down. He should have buried it in the deep pit inside himself where he shoved all other feelings that didn’t pertain to revenge, control, or power. All the things that made him Ketterdam’s Bastard of the Barrel. However, he couldn’t. He just couldn’t and he had tried with every ounce of willpower in his broken, miserable body. Every time he looked at her, caught the scent of her perfume, felt the warmth of her touch lingering on the window sill; he felt himself unraveling. 

Kaz forever envisioned his life spent with no company other than his own and he had accepted it with no qualms. He enjoyed his own company. Now he was posed with a situation he had never prepared for and had no clue how to proceed with. And it was for that reason that Kaz was here today. 

Kaz was desperate. 

When it came to choosing an acquaintance with romantic experience, his options had been slim and even that was an extreme understatement. His choices included Jesper Fahey and Nina Zenik. Neither of them were nearly capable enough to handle this sensitive information with any form of maturity. At the very least, Jesper lacked Nina’s ruthlessness. 

“Jesper!” A voice rang out from the nearby foyer. "Jesper, I'm home!"

“Shit, it’s Wylan!” Jesper hissed, scrambled to the table beside the sofa and opened the lid to a small trinket box. He hastily snubbed his cigarillo out inside and snapped the lid shut before waving his hands like an overgrown bird in an attempt to disperse the lingering smoke. He only just had time to throw himself into a lounging position before Wylan appeared in the door. 

Wylan Van Eck had grown quite a bit since he had first joined the ranks of the Dregs. His face had lost some of its boyish roundness. 

Wylan stopped mid stride, his nostrils flaring as he raised his chin and took in the fading scent of Jesper’s freshly extinguished cigarillo. “Jesper! How many times do I have to tell you, stop smoking those in the house! That smell gets in the carpet!” 

If only Jesper’s smile was as effective in getting him out of trouble as he believed it to be. Wylan sighed exasperatedly, but made no further comment. This was obviously an ongoing struggle. Wylan crossed to the card table adjacent to the fireplace, depositing his armful of packages on its surface. “So… what business, Kaz? It’s not often we see you here…. I know you can stomach this place just about as well as I can.” Wylan had made it known more than once that he had absolutely no sentimental feelings towards his childhood home. It seemed his presence there hinged solely on his affections for Jesper who had settled into life of luxury as if he had never lived any other way. 

Kaz hesitated. It couldn’t have been more than half a moment, but the subtle arch of Wylan’s brow indicated he had caught the uncharacteristic action. “I need help with a job. I came to ask Jesper for help.” It wasn’t entirely a lie though not specifically the truth either. 

“Oh, really?” Wylan queried, unwrapping one paper swathed package. “What kind of job?” 

Jesper was the one to intervene, springing up from his perch on the sofa once more like a tightly wound coil. “A stakeout!” he blurted. Wylan blinked at him suspicion. “Uh… yeah, a stakeout! It looks like the Black Tips have been sniffing around Fifth Harbor and Kaz wants me to keep an eye on the borders.” 

“A stakeout, huh?” he queried once more, lifting another of his packages. He pulled away the paper slowly and deliberately. The slow riiiiiiip it produced should have been classified as an instrument of torture in Kaz’s current state. “That doesn’t really sound like a job for Jesper.” Kaz glared pointedly at Jesper. The Zemeni merely grimaced, bouncing his shoulders and mouthing a silent word of apology. "Did something happen with Inej?" 

"No. It didn't." Kaz came out much more bitter than he had intended which caused Wylan to arch his brow even further. It didn’t take an idiot to know something with their story didn’t quite check out, but still Wylan had become so damn perceptive since entering the ranks of the Dregs. His cunning rivaled Kaz’s own which at most times impressed him, but sometimes left him mildly disquieted. He would make a fine successor should he ever decide to abandon some of that meddlesome humanity. 

“Alright, sounds good. Be safe.” Wylan abruptly stated, gathering his unwrapped purchases in the cradle of his arms and proceeding out from the parlor. “I’ll be in the lab if you need me!” echoed out behind him as he rounded the grand staircase and disappeared from sight. Kaz and Jesper stood silently, gawking at the empty space where Wylan had been as if they hadn’t yet processed the fact he was no longer there. 

Jesper glanced dazedly over at Kaz, “Okay, well.... I guess, that… settles that.” Jesper clapped his hands together and swiveled on the balls of his feet to face Kaz. “Alright! Let’s talk about the game plan! I’m thinking some new clothes.” 

The pit that had been growing in Kaz’s stomach grew deeper still. If it were possible to feel worse about this decision than before than he most certainly would, but it seemed there was no choice now. No mourners, no funerals. 

******

“Alright,” Jesper sang, clapping his hands together. “Inej should be arriving back in Ketterdam sometime in the next few days correct?” Kaz affirmed with a bare nod. “Why don’t we start with the basics?” Jesper had brought Kaz to a quaint little square in the Zelver district. The planters surrounding the square were bursting with freshly bloomed crocuses and tulips. Townsfolk were perched at wrought iron bistro tables, nursing cups of steaming coffee bright with fresh cream or pecking at delicate pastries from the neighboring coffeehouses. A small handful of children ran around chasing a brightly colored ball in a jubilant cacophony of giggles and shrieks. 

Kaz hated it. 

Places like this so reminded him too much of the brief dream of a life he and his brother had lived upon their arrival in Ketterdam. It reminded him too much of the house with the blue door and white lace curtains in the windows. Too much of hutspot and rich hot chocolate and a porcelain doll of a girl with a red ribbon in her hair. Suffering had been the forge in which Kaz Brekker had been created and remembering that there were people had never known the same was always hard for him to swallow. 

Still, Kaz couldn’t complain. He refused to take any of Jesper’s so called “lessons of love” anywhere in the remote vicinity of the Barrel or East and West Stave. The risk of him being recognized in those places was too great and he didn’t wish to expose himself any further than he already had. Here he was blissfully anonymous and therefore exempt from some marginal amount of embarrassment or so he believed. 

“Alright, so generally when people are happy they tend to smile, correct?” Jesper was pacing a line in front of Kaz, the crumbs of a recently eaten pastry still stuck to his lips. Kaz didn’t bother to tell him they were still there. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you actually smile before. I mean, I’ve seen the scheming face smile before, but that doesn’t exactly count, does it? It looks more like that kind of smile an opponent might give you when they’re about the beat your hand with a royal flush and-! ”

“Jesper.” Kaz barked, setting the Zemeni still like a hound called to heel. “Please, I am not getting any younger sitting here listening to your ramblings over the opinion of my expressions. I would appreciate you getting to your point at some moment in my lifetime. Also there have been crumbs on your face for the last ten minutes. For saints sake, clean yourself up.” 

Jesper blinked at him a moment before swiftly brushing the crumbs from his mouth with a swipe of the back of his hand. His cheeks were dark with embarrassment. “Right, okay focusing…” He took a collective breath. “So, you need to let Inej know you enjoy being around her.” 

“I’m not sure if you’ve realized, but that’s the whole reason we’re here.” 

Jesper sighed exasperatedly, “Work with me here, Kaz. You can’t just run up to Inej and scream about your feelings in her face. You have to start small; baby steps if you will.” Kaz raised one dark brow. “You have to start subtle. Start smiling at her more, maybe throw in a laugh at something she says. Make her feel like you enjoy being in her company.” 

“But I do enjoy being in her company.” 

“Yeah, I understand that, but you would never know it with that sourpuss of a face you have.” Kaz furrowed his brows. Jesper swallowed thickly. “N-not that there’s anything wrong with that! I mean, your face is what it is and it’s perfectly handsome,” Kaz brushed off the fact that Jesper had just referred to his face as ‘perfectly handsome.’ “But maybe you should just try and-!” 

“Fine.” Kaz cut Jesper’s ramblings off at the knee. He no longer had the patience for them. “I will… try to smile.” Kaz moistened his lips, stretched his mouth out and back in to test the functioning of his muscles. He took a collective breath. The corners of his lips twitched upwards; a direction they were not accustomed to moving in. He believed he was doing a fine job of things. He certainly didn’t think he was the picture of serenity, but he thought the smile looked genuine. Unfortunately, judging from the look Jesper was giving him, the Zemeni didn’t think the same.

Kaz’s smile fell. “What? Am I doing something wrong?” 

“Not really, it’s just…” Jesper sucked the air in through his teeth with a small hiss. “Well you’re kind of just making your scheming face.” Kaz’s stomach dropped. Conspiratorial smiles were all well and good in his line of business, but not when trying to convey affection to significant others. Kaz furrowed his brow, not entirely sure how to proceed. Jesper must have sensed his frustration and jumped to encourage him. “Hey, hey don’t get discouraged! You just need some practice, that’s all! Look, try again and I’ll tell you how to make it look more genuine, okay?” Kaz agreed reluctantly because what other choice did he have? 

For the better part of the next hour, Jesper coached Kaz on how to smile like a proper man and less like a Barrel-born thug. He offered little bits of advice like smoothing is brow, relaxing the tension in his jaw, and showing just a hint of teeth. By the time they were through, Jesper was looking at him with accomplishment in his grey eyes. “Not bad, not bad at all,” he mused. “I would almost say you look genuinely happy! Alright, that’s enough practice for now.” 

Kaz let his face fall back to its natural expression, massaging his cheeks with the tips of his leather clad fingers. He had endured beatings, knife wounds, several broken bones- one of which had caused him a permanent disability- and yet somehow learning how to smile had been more arduous. The muscles in his cheeks twitched from the strain. They were painfully underused, afterall.

Jesper was beginning to explain phase two of his plan when a brightly colored ball bounced towards their bench, rolling the last few feet before coming to a stop at the edge of Kaz’s pristinely polished shoes. He tilted his chin upwards, watching as the gaggle of children who had been frolicing about the square barreled towards them in pursuit of their escaped plaything.

With one look at Kaz, however, the children stopped dead in their tracks; their combined momentum nearly sending them toppling onto the cobblestone like dominoes. 

Kaz knew how he appeared to children, a creature comprised of sharp angles and shadows that more resembled the monster under their bed than it did a man. He had no qualms against this vision of himself since he had no fondness for children as proven with sweet little Hanna Smeet. He looked down at the ball with distaste. It’s overly-saturated color made his eyes sting as if staring into the light of the sun. 

“Oh, this is perfect!” Jesper clapped his hands together jubilantly. “Okay Kaz, here’s where all the hard work comes into practice! Bring that ball back over to those kids and give them your best smile when you do it.”

“You can’t be serious.” Kaz rasped, bitter coffee gaze sliding from the ball to the Zemeni as he flopped onto the bench beside him. 

“I assure you that I am one hundred percent serious. You don’t get unrestricted candor from anyone like you do from children. If your new smile works on them, then all of our hard work will have been worth the effort.” Jesper flashed his own brilliant white smile. It was just as bright and damning as the ball- as the sun. 

Kaz looked down at the ball, looked back up at Jesper who’s unrelenting smile was beginning to shift from aimable to unnerving. He certainly wasn’t giving up on this no more than he would surrender his beloved pearl handled pistols. “Fine,” Kaz growled. “Just stop smiling at me like that.” Kaz scooped the ball into the palm of one hand and grasped his cane with the other, hoisting himself up from the bench with a small creak of protest from his bad leg. He limped towards the children, the steel tip of his cane rasping against the stones beneath. 

The children stood paralyzed, caught between their fear of the monster approaching them and their desire for the ball in his hand. Their knees knocked, lips wobbled, eyes swimming with the imminent threat of tears. This couldn’t possibly end well. Nevertheless he persisted, intent on seeing this through. He stopped a few feet before the children and used his cane to lower himself into a kneeling position. His bad leg creaked in protest once more and he growled with annoyance. The children shrunk away with a chorus of barely contained gasps. 

“No wait, I…” The children waited with bated breath, curiosities momentarily overshadowing their trepidation. Kaz took a collective breath, briefly tested the muscles of his lips. He leaned forward, offering the ball in his outstretched palm. He thought back to all of Jesper’s tips, smoothing the furrow of his brows, relaxing the tension of his jaw, revealing a hint of teeth. “I believe this belongs to you.” 

The children scattered like roaches caught by the light, screaming and bolting off in a multitude of directions. In her haste, one little girl tripped over the hem of her skirts and collapsed face first to the cobblestones. One braid had come loose from where it had been wrapped around her head and it hung limply against the side of her dirt and tear streaked face. One boy mustered up enough courage to turn back, grasping his friend by the arm, dragging her up from the road, and carting her off towards a cafe. 

Kaz sat there dumbfounded. Of course he hadn’t believed that would go well, but he still didn’t expect the disaster that unfolded. He surmised that one of them would snatch the ball with a hurried word of thanks and then the lot would scurry off to continue their game. Instead they had run off like the grim reaper galloped on their heels atop his skeletal steed. Kaz had expected nothing and yet was somehow still disappointed. 

Kaz swiveled on the balls of his feet, craning his neck back to where Jesper sat by the bench, hands clasped over his mouth to silence the laughter that was still evident in quiver of his shoulders. Kaz shot up from his position despite the protest of his leg, stalking across the square back to Jesper. The Zemini snapped straight and still as Kaz approached like a soldier to his commanding general. “We’re going.” Kaz barked. “If you so much as breathe a word of this to anyone ever, Saints help me Jesper I will shove a hundred kruge down your throat and then slice you open so they tumble out like a damn slot machine.” 

Typically, such a threat would be disturbing to the average person, but Jesper only cast him a wry smile and fell into step behind him. “Whatever you say, boss. Whatever you say.” 

********* 

After the incident in the Zelver district, Kaz and Jesper thought it best to seek out new territory to continue their lessons. The cherry on the top of this day would be some pinched faced merchant wife crying for the Stadwatch and demanding repercussions for the Barrel thugs who terrorized her little darlings. Jesper and Kaz moved eastward, passed the Church of Barter and towards the University District. This district was blissfully void of the snotfaced cretins known as children. 

Unfortunately, children of another kind populated this particular district. The incredibly cocksure, yet sickeningly nebulous breed known as the university student. It was nearing the end of the term and they were skittering about like rodents; wild eyed and bristling at the slightest inconvenience.

One student bumped shoulders with Kaz and reacted with a fiercely growled, “Watch where you’re going!” And muttered afterwards, “Lousy cripple.” It probably wasn’t meant to be heard, but was there nonetheless and Kaz wasn’t in a particularly passive mood. Kaz brushed his shoulder off with a practiced word of apology. The student righted himself and readjusted the stack in his arms before turning to bustle off to wherever he had been hurrying to before the collision.

Kaz gripped the head of his cane in his gloved hand. He jabbed the steel tip backwards with pinpoint precision and struck the back of the student’s knee. He folded to the ground like a gambler with a losing hand; his papers falling around him like a hail of confetti. They caught on the breeze like escaped birds. The student made no movement to recapture them. He laid there on the stones with his face scrunched in a way that couldn’t have been anything other an effort to hold back tears. Had that truly been all it took? Kaz almost felt sorry for him as he strode away. 

Almost. 

“Did you really have to do that to him? Final exams are a ridiculously stressful time.” Jesper said reproachfully casting a glance back at the student who was still lying in the street. He had curled in on himself like a dying insect.

“It certainly made me feel better so… yes. Yes I did.” Jesper rolled his eyes, but judging from the quiver of his dark lips, he was trying not to find too much satisfaction in the student’s retribution. 

Jesper and Kaz settled in a courtyard just off the main thoroughfare. It was mostly secluded, save for a single student perched on the bench in the far corner. Her nose was buried so deeply into a leather bound tome that the rest of her face was not even visible. She wouldn’t be interrupting them any time soon. They sat down on a bench as they had in the Zelver District, Jesper tucked into the far right and Kaz the far left. Kaz closed his eyes for a brief moment; drinking in the serenity of the courtyard. After the cacophony of sensations from the square, this place was a sanctuary. 

He felt the planks of the bench beneath him bow and bend as weight shifted atop them. He opened his eyes and glanced sidelong at Jesper who appeared to have grown closer. Kaz eyed him warily, but determined the space between them was still sufficient enough. Kaz tried to immerse himself back in his moment of peace when he once more felt the bench planks bow and bend as Jesper inched closer still. He swiped his cane from where it had been propped against the bench and wielded it as a makeshift barrier between them. 

“Jesper. Whatever it is you’re doing it better stop right now. I require a least two feet of distance from you at all times.”

“First of all, ouch. Second of all, prepare yourself because this is lesson number two, Kaz.”

“If lesson number two involves the continued invasion of my personal space, then I’m afraid this lesson is over.” Kaz retreated further down the bench though there wasn’t much space left to retreat into. The curled, wrought iron of the armrest pressed into his side through the bulk of his wool coat. 

“C’mon Kaz! Do you want to win over Inej or not?” 

“I don’t know, Jesper, would you like to lose an arm?” Kaz growled. “Because that’s the direction we’re heading if you don’t shift down the other end of this saints forsaken bench.” Customarily, Kaz did his utmost to contain the sickness inside him. Exposing it meant exposing what was perhaps his greatest weakness and weakness was not of Kaz Brekker’s list of desirable personality traits. However, the stress of this day had left him cracked. 

“Do you want to win over Inej or not?” When Kaz didn’t immediately respond, Jesper shifted closer. “Well, do you or don’t you?” He stared at Kaz expectantly, his grey eyes seeming to penetrate through to his very soul. Kaz pressed his lips together and gave a bare nod. “That’s what I thought. Just sit back and let the master show you how it’s done.” Jesper shimmied a little closer, further closing what little space remained between them. Kaz’s skin crawled, but he remained still.

“So, when you’re sitting next to her, you start moving in closer. Remember to take your time with it; you don’t want to be intimidating.” Jesper was now a hair's breadth away; he could feel the warmth of the Zemeni’s body. It made his stomach roil. “Now, this is when the magic happens.” Jesper’s grin was not assuring of any type of magic. “So, sit like this for awhile. Kind of let that tension grow. Drive ‘em a little stir-crazy. Then, real smooth like, pretend like you’re going to yawn, stretch your arms up,” Jesper raised both lanky arms over his head; stretching them out before casually bringing one down and around Kaz’s shoulder. It settled there as if there was nowhere else it had ever been. “And boom, there you have it. Now the two of you are nice and cozy and perfectly poised for smoochin’.” He winked. Kaz nearly wretched. 

“Oh dear… am I interrupting something?” Kaz nearly jumped from his skin, leaving it like a molted shell on the bench behind him. He whirled around to see none other than a deviously grinning Nina Zenik. Kaz swallowed thickly. The cat about to devour the canary. “Jesper Fahey, how could you?!” she bewailed. “I always knew you were a degenerate, but cheating on your sweet innocent Wylan with Dirty Hands himself?” The student who had been buried in her book across the courtyard briefly bobbed above the pages. 

“Nina… dear…” Kaz’s voice was low and feral, barely contained like a wild animal moments away from breaking its restraints. “Would you kindly shut that plump little mouth of yours?” Unfortunately with Nina, everything worked in the opposite. All positives were negatives, all negatives were positives, and ‘shut your mouth’ meant ‘please continue on as emphatically as your obnoxious voice box can manage.’ 

“Oh, poor Wylan will be devastated- absolutely heartbroken! I fear he may never recover from such a blow. I hope the taste of danger was worth it, Jesper!”

Jesper looked stricken. “Nina! How could I? How could you? I love Wylan more than life itself! And even if I didn’t, would you truly think that this-” He gestured to Kaz- “Would be the one I would choose?” Kaz glowered at Jesper. “No offense, buddy, you’re just not my type.” Kaz could’ve ripped his hair out. 

Kaz stood from the bench, his coat once more rising in a swell around his legs. “I told you to shut your mouth.” He turned the ferocity of his gaze on Jesper. “And I extend that to you, too. I can’t stand either of your wailings. I swear, you’ll make my head split.” It was true that Kaz’s head was beginning to ache; his temples throbbing like the steady beat of a drum. This day had put him into so many situations beyond the limits of his comfort zone and it was starting to wear his nerves thin. 

Nina and Jesper exchanged a glance. “Alright, fine, Kaz, we’ll stop…” Nina muttered. She made it her personal business to give Kaz as much hell as humanly possibly, but something must have told her to push that aside. Something about Kaz was different. He wasn’t just being his usual disgruntled self. Whatever this was, it ran deeper than the average vexation. “But seriously, what is going on? I know how particular you are about your personal space so you must have a good reason to be out here letting Jesper put the moves on you.” 

Kaz only sighed, collapsing onto the bench. “It’s none of your business, Zenik. Just run off and eat cake or raise the dead or whatever it is you do for fun these days.” Kaz pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes in hopes to relieve some of the pressure building inside his skull.

Telling Nina Zenik to mind her own business was like telling the sun to not shine. Now that she knew something was amiss, she would pursue it like a dog with a bone. “Like hell it isn’t, Brekker. I know you’re about as personable as Genya Safin on a bad hair day, but this is beyond even that. Whether you like it or not, Kaz, I’m your friend and I want to help.” As frustrating as she could be, Nina was fiercely loyal and Kaz had to give her some credit for that. However, he still wasn’t in the mood for this.

“I said no.” Kaz bit. 

“And I said tell me,” jabbed Nina.

Jesper, having grown restless with the building tension finally blurted, “Kaz is in love with Inej and we’re trying to come up with ways he can tell her!” The words left him in one great rush and he had to suck in a deep breath to recover. When he realized what he had done, he clapped his hands over his mouth; eyes twitching back and forth between Nina and Kaz. 

“Oh, that’s all,” Her laughter fluttered like butterflies wings. “I already knew that. You like to think you’re Mister Cool-and-Detached, but I’ve been watching you pine after her for years!” 

Kaz sucked a breath to retort, but found all his words caught in his throat. Had… had really been so painfully obvious about it? He supposed that it must have been somewhat unsubtle since Van Eck had known to use Inej as a pawn for negotiation. Still, he found himself somewhat embarrassed knowing Nina had noticed. 

“If you’re looking for ways to win over Inej, then look no further! I happen to be an expert in the art of winning affection.” Nina dismissed with a wave of her perfectly manicured hand. “The way to any woman’s heart is through her stomach!” 

Jesper and Kaz exchanged a quick glance at each other, brows arched in matching expressions of confusion. Jesper piped up, “Umm...I thought that only worked on men?” 

“Of course, typical male chauvinists!” Nina huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You do realize that not everything is about men, don’t you? A woman’s heart can be won over just as easily with the offering food. An example of one such woman stands before your very eyes.” She says with a gesture to her ample form. “So, what kind of food does Inej like?” 

“I don’t know.” Kaz replied curtly. 

Nina’s smile fell. “You… don’t know? Well, saints Kaz, you claim to love her and yet you don’t even know what kind of food she likes to eat?” 

“Do you?” he bit back. 

Nina furrowed her brow, stroking the smooth curve of her chin as she gave Kaz’s question some thought. “Um, well- I guess… I don’t know either. She’s not really much of an eater.” 

Kaz leaned forward on his cane, his fingers steepled across the crow’s head. “Then enlighten me, my dear Nina, on what makes you think that cooking a meal would do to win her over?” 

Nina puffed her cheeks. “Well, at the very least I know she likes waffles. Good waffles. Thick fluffy waffles soaked in golden honey syrup and smothered with soft, salty butter. Bejeweled with luscious red strawberries and… oh, just thinking about it makes me famished.” Nina’s cheeks had flushed a dusty shade of pink. Her relationship with food clearly bordered on the edge of unnatural and Kaz did his best not to think too hard about it.

Nina blinked and broke free from her pastry induced stupor. “A-anyway, I think you should cook something for her! Knowing that someone took the time and effort to make something especially for you is extremely romantic. It would certainly mean a lot coming from you especially because your every waking moment is dedicated to your unhealthy obsession with kruge” 

“I think you forget that my unhealthy obsession with kruge is what helps to feed your own. Every time you sit down to stuff yourself with biscuits or cakes or waffles, you should be saying your graces to me and not your Ravkan saints.” 

Nina looked at him momentarily with a wooden expression as if she could not believe Kaz Brekker could be so unspeakably conceited. She seemed to think better of it though since she had known Kaz several years now and knew that he, indeed, could. “Either way, I am not the issue, here. The whole reason you’re out here practically spooning with Jesper on a public bench is because you need to learn how to woo Inej. Preparing a meal is a very reasonable solution. There is, however, one little hitch… Kaz, do you even know how to cook?” 

“He knows how to cook up some pretty good heists!” Jesper chortled, his face plastered with an idiotic grin. He had shaped his fingers to resemble pistols and shot a round at both Kaz and Nina accompanied by the appropriate sound effects. The joke did not have the desired effect and Jesper awkwardly lowered his “guns”. “Uh… sorry…” He coughed, shoving his hands under his thighs. 

“Anyway,” Nina dispersed the awkward air with a small clap, “I know a bakery not far from here that actually offers lessons in the art of waffle making! We should go see if they’re having a class!” 

“That’s perfect!” Jesper exclaimed, springing up from his place on the bench. “We’ll all take a lesson! Oh man… imagine what Wylan would think if I surprised him with breakfast in bed and with a breakfast I made! Oh… all the smooches I’d get…” Now Jesper’s face had gone flushed and dreamy. 

“No, I don’t want to hear it!” Nina suddenly cried, returning to her earlier bit. “You leave that innocent boy alone! You’ve toyed with his heart enough!” 

“Oh, for Saint’s sake.” Kaz growled, snatching his can and hauling himself from the bench. “Can we just get a move on already?” He stalked off towards the entrance of the courtyard and paused as he reached it. He looked up the left side of the street and then the right and sighed exasperatedly. “Nina, I don’t know where I’m going!” 

“Calm down, you big baby! Take the right.” Nina and Jesper trailed after Kaz and together the three of them proceeded down the path in a jumble of laughter and growls. 

The student who had been sitting in the courtyard at last lifted her book and rested it spine down against her lap. She had absolutely no idea who any of those people had been and sure that none of them belonged to the university. She was glad they were gone, but she couldn’t help the heartening sense that she hoped he got his girl. She lifted her book and buried her nose and once more submitted herself to her studies. 

************

Kaz, Nina, and Jesper soon found themselves outside the bakery Nina had spoken of. The sign out front displayed the name Zoet Verliefed. Sweet Love. How sickeningly appropriate. Nina breezed through the front door as if she were the breath of spring herself; Her hair trailing behind her in a cascade of chestnut curls. There was a young boy standing behind the counter. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen. The son of the owner, Kaz pondered. He was playing with a coin, spinning it with a flick of his fingers and observing how many times it revolved before clattering back to the counter. 

“O-oh! Ms. Zenik!” he gasped, his face flushed red all the way to the tips of his ears. Oh. Kaz understood now. It seemed that Nina was a regular customer here. Perhaps more than regular judging from the way the counter boy sputtered so abashedly. 

“Hi, Gerrit!” she sang, fluttering her way up to the counter with her curls all abounce. She pressed her palms to the counter, bracketing the ample shape of her bosom with her arms and giving her assets just the right amount of lift. “I haven’t seen you in so long! I’ve missed you,” she purred, bouncing on the balls of her feet and making her form jiggle. 

Gerrit looked like he could’ve passed out. 

“T-t-that’s okay, Ms. Zenik! I’m just glad to see you’re well!” That probably wasn’t the only thing he was glad to see judging from the way he squirmed. 

“Oh please, I’ve told you not to call me that, you make me sound like an old lady!” Nina giggled, twirling a lock of hair around one perfectly manicured finger. Kaz cleared his throat into a closed fist, reminding Nina that they were here for reasons other than harmless flirting. “Oh, right! Gerrit, are you having one of those little cooking classes here today?” 

Gerrit broke free of his stupor, meeting Nina’s eyes with an owlish gaze, “Cooking class?” He echoed back like a mockingbird. “Oh um, no we aren’t. We usually only do them on Wednesdays and Fridays.” 

Nina jutted out her lower lip, sank heavily against the surface of the counter. 

“You see my friend back there?” She gestured to where Kaz and Jesper stood behind her. Gerrit’s eyes darted between the two of them, not entirely sure to which friend she was referring. “Not the human beanpole, the one that looks like he might bite your face off.” Gerrit’s eyes settled on Kaz, flinching slightly as their gazes met. “You see… underneath that unforgiving exterior is the bleeding heart of a man yearning to love.” 

“Nina,” Kaz growled lowly. Nina held up a hand to signal his silence. 

“Yes, there is a girl he loves so deeply and passionately that he has risked life and limb for her and yet despite all that he is too emotionally stunted to confess the true nature of his feelings. Jesper and I,” Jesper gave a small wave. “Have been working all day to help him find ways to make his true feelings known and we thought cooking a meal would be the perfect solution!” 

Gerrit stood there a moment, gaze darting from Nina to Kaz to Jesper, back to Nina then Kaz and back once more at Nina. He licked his lips nervously, clearly unsure where he fell into all of this. “Um… that’s uh… really sweet?” Nina’s smiled twitched. 

“Yes… it is,” she drew out. “But, oh woe!” she cried, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like a damsel about to swoon. “We are here on a day when no cooking class is offered! Whatever are we going to do?” Nina paused, sneaking a glance at Gerrit to see if her acting had made things any more clear. He blinked owlishly, his hands wrung around the excess material of his apron. Nina’s smile twitched once more, obviously losing patience with this boy and his obliviousness. “If only… there was someway… someone-” she emphasized the word- “Who could help us out.” 

Something inside Garrit seemed to click, “O-oh! You mean me! Oh, well, uh… I guess my dad won’t be back for awhile, but there won’t be anymore to mind the shop if I’m in the kitchen....” 

“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about the shop. Here,” Nina reached into her pocket and extracted a small stack of gold coins, placing them on the counter with a like clink. “For your trouble.” 

Gerrit’s eyes flickered once more between all parties, now with the addition of the gold coins stacked on the counter. He wrung his apron more tightly. “O-okay, but only for you, N...Nina…” 

Nina squealed in delight, bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet. “You’re just the absolute sweetest! Oh, I could kiss you!” Gerrit once more looked like he could’ve passed out. His eyelids even fluttered.

“O-Oh y-you don’t have to do that I m-mean…” He bumbled helplessly, his face growing redder as the idea seemed to take root in his mind. His hands wrung his apron so tightly Kaz swore he could hear the cloth groaning with the strain. “The kitchen is this way!” Gerrit suddenly blurted, scurrying off through a set of carved wooden doors.

Nina looked quite satisfied with herself, smirking from ear to ear. “That’s how it’s done, boys.” 

Kaz stepped up to the counter beside her, “Have you no shame?” 

“No more than you do, crow boy. And put those coins back, won’t you? I actually like these people.”

Kaz huffed softly and did as bidded, returning the stack of coins Nina had placed there as if they had never been anywhere else.

********

Gerrit was a whirlwind as he set up the kitchen; setting out various bowls and spoons and ingredients. For something that was supposed to be so simple, it seemed like more effort than it was worth. Why make something yourself when it could be more easily purchased? Call him strange, but he would much prefer to be bought a steak dinner properly cooked than made one that was all grisel and fat. There was something to this he didn’t understand, but he supposed that was why he asked for help in the first place.

Kaz stripped himself of his jacket and hung it up on a post near the door. He rolled the sleeves of his shirt up to the elbow, partially exposing the crow and cup tattooed on his inner arm. Gerrit eyed it warily, but swiftly turned his gaze when caught staring. 

He wet his bottom lip, “Um… I-I think cooking might be easier if you remove your gloves.”

“And I think cooking might be easier if you mind your own business.” Gerrit pressed his lips together and stepped back. He had heard Kaz’s bark and seemed smart enough not to goad him to bite. 

“Okay… then, let’s start.” Gerrit explained to them the basics of waffle batter. Told them about the balance between wet and dry ingredients, proper stirring techniques to ensure optimal fluffiness. As he talked, he performed each task with a practiced ease. He seemed sure of himself here. He was no longer the bumbling boy who had nearly passed out at the sight of a little flesh. When the batter was complete, he showed them how to use the waffle iron. It was all simple enough. If this child could make waffles with such finesse, there was no reason why Kaz Brekker- Leader of the Dregs, Conqueror of the Fjerdan Ice Court, Bastard of the Barrel- could not do the same. Kaz looked down at the ingredients. Flour, eggs, salt, milk…

“Do you really think Inej is going to like this?” asked Jesper from Kaz’s left. His flour was already sifted into his bowl, soft and powdery like freshly fallen snow. He was now measuring out the salt.

“Of course, why wouldn’t she?” conferred Nina from Kaz’s right. She paced evenly with Jesper in the process of her batter; her dried ingredients all resting in the bottom of the bowl. She was working on removing the cork from a bottle of milk. Kaz’s heart skipped a beat. How had they managed to work so quickly and without his notice? He jumped to start his own batter. He wasn’t going to be shown up by the likes of Nina and Jesper. 

Nina continued on, unaware of Kaz’s inner plight. “Whenever Inej is home from sea voyaging, we always make sure to meet up for a waffle date. Waffles were one of the things we always talked about getting when we returned to Ketterdam from Fjerda.” 

Kaz paused in measuring his flour. Wait, they did? Kaz didn’t always see Inej when she returned to Ketterdam. Sometimes he would find only a small bag of birdseed on the windowsill of his office, a small handwritten note beside it bearing the simple phrase ‘don’t forget.’ It brought him back to the memory of Inej perched on that same windowsill. Stray locks of her midnight hair tugged free from its braid by the breeze, her lashes soft and feathery against her cheeks as she basked in the dying sunlight. She seemed to glow gold, an immortal being trapped in the lowly world of men. Outside, the crows pecked merrily at the seed she had thrown. The Queen of Scavengers. The Goddess of Lost Things. 

Kaz slipped back into reality with an inaudible gasp. Had he… put in one cup of flour or two? He peered down into his bowl. It didn’t seem like very much; he had probably only just added one. He measured another and dumped it in. 

“I guess you’re right about that,” Jesper hummed as poured the milk into the well of his dry ingredients. He did it little by little, mixing between each bit. “I don’t always get to see her, but I’ve gotten quite a few letters from her! She’s always sending me information on all the weapons she’s come across in her travels; sketches, samples of ammunition. She even sent me the latest in Zemeni revolver tech! It fires eight rounds in under ten seconds! Wylan and I tested it out some of his father’s old portraits.” 

Kaz looked down at his bowl, half full of flour. He, too, had received letters from Inej, but they weren’t frequent and weren’t especially personal either. They typically contained a vague description of her current whereabouts, information about the slavers she had apprehended and the people he should be looking out for on the homefront. She often asked after her parents. They had long since moved on from the dismal streets of Ketterdam, but Kaz was sure to keep tabs on them to make sure they were well.

He started adding salt and baking powder. 

The only thing that ever caught him were the signatures of her letters. She always finished them with the phrase ‘yours, Inej.’ Yours. It was such a simple word used constantly with little consequence. Did she have any knowledge of what she was doing to him? Did she know how his heart writhed every time he saw that one little word scrawled so careless at the end of every correspondence? Did she know how it drove his sleep away and left him tossing and turning on the narrow shape of his bed, grappling with the question of whether or not he dared to think of her as his? No… Inej belonged to no one. She was her own keeper. 

“Kaz...? You alright there, boss?” Jesper’s queryshook Kaz free from the devolvement of his thoughts and blinked at Jesper owlishly.

“Alright? Of course I’m alright. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well you were just kind of… staring at your baking powder,” piped in Nina. 

Kaz looked down at the bowl of powder cupped in his palm. It was made from thick ceramic and adorned with a motif of tittering blue birds. Had… had he actually added it? He peered down into his bowl, but everything was a wash of white. He couldn’t tell what was flour and what was powder. What was sugar and what was salt. “I was… just remembering the recipe. Two teaspoons of baking powder.” He scooped out said amount and dropped it in amongst the other white nonsense. 

Within a short amount of time, the three of them had each accomplished the creation of a waffle batter. Kaz frowned into his bowl. How could something look so lumpy while simultaneously so runny? It seemed to defy the very laws of physics and Kaz questioned how he had managed to bring such a strange substance into existence. 

The group was about to cook their batters when the faint tinkling of the shop bell took Garrit’s attention. He hurriedly excused himself from their presence and scurried off between the kitchen doors. “Wait for me before you use the iron!” he threw behind him. The three of them watched the doors swing back and forth on their hinges before ultimately settling with a small rumble. 

“Screw that.” Nina snatched her bowl of completed batter and strode over to where the waffle iron still sat red hot and unattended. 

“Wait Nina!” Jesper titered. “Gerrit told us to wait until he came back.” 

“When have I ever done as I’m told? When have any of us-” she waved her arm in a broad gesture to the rooms three occupants- “Ever done as we’re told? All I know is that I want waffles and I want them now.” 

Jesper thought about it for a moment, but then bounced his shoulders in a shrug, “Enh, you’re right! Besides it’s just a waffle iron. How hard could it be?” He huddled near the oven with Nina and the two of them chattered and giggled as they each took their turn and brought their creations to life. Nina’s was the picture of perfection 

Kaz stepped up to the oven, glancing briefly between his bowl of batter and waffle iron. It sizzled quietly with the residue of the last batch. He was still not sure how he had gotten to this point, but he supposed it would be a waste if he didn’t see it through. He greased the waffle iron with a thick pad of butter and it hissed into new life. He poured his batter in the center and it flooded through the nooks and crannies with the rush of a rogue wave. He swiftly slammed the lid shut before it could run out the sides. 

“How did you do, Kaz?” piped Jesper, suddenly appearing over Kaz’s shoulder. His proximity was certainly too close for comfort and Kaz shifted away from him. 

“You know it’s not supposed to be a liquid, right?” added Nina, appearing at his other shoulder.

Kaz scowled and stepped away from them, “I didn’t hover over your shoulders and criticize your handiwork so why should you with me?”

“Because something about it really didn’t look right,” Nina retorted. “I have to make sure you’re not over her committing atrocities against waffle kind over here.” 

Suddenly the waffle iron was overflowing; batter seeping through the cracks of its cast iron shell and dripping into the fire below. It sizzled and sputtered and spat back at him in thick drops of hot grease and fat. He gave silent thanks for his gloves for without them his hands would’ve surely suffered burns. Jesper and Nina had begun to shriek, their own skin unprotected and already turning pink where the batter had spat at them. 

“Saint’s, that fucking hurt!” Nina keened, cradling her injured hands against her chest. “What the hell, Kaz?! What did you do?”

“What did I do? Absolutely nothing!”

“Well you clearly did something because I’m pretty sure waffles aren’t supposed to do that!” 

Jesper interrupted their bickering, “Uh, guys? It's getting worse!” He pointed a freshly blistering finger to where the fire beneath the waffle iron had grown nearly twice its original size. It licked around the edges of the oven like a beast lashing out between the bars of its cage. 

“Water! We need water!” Nina whirled around, her curls following behind half a second slower and whipping her in the face. She sputtered and tugged the chestnut locks from her face as she stumbled blinding in the direction of the sink. One curvaceous hip swung out and struck the corner of the table. The dishes on top spilled forward, rolling off the surface and onto the floor in a spray of ceramic shrapnel. She swore to herself. 

“A little broken china is not really the priority,” Kaz pointed out.

“You’re not helping, Kaz!” Nina stepped around the broken china as best she could, some crunching underfoot as she made her way to the sink. She swiftly filled a nearby basin and swung it into her arms, the liquid inside sloshing over the sides and onto the floor. She made it halfway back towards the blaze when she slipped on a spilled puddle of water. Nina sprawled out across the floor in a mass of tangled limbs and scarlet fabric. The bucket flew from her arms and the water inside along with it. It was close enough to reach the fire, but it was enough to reach Kaz and Jesper. The two now stood with their clothes thoroughly soaked, the excess running down their faces like fresh rainfall. 

Kaz could feel the vein in his temple throb as he pushed a hand through his dampened hair in an attempt to return it to shape. “Thank you, Nina, you’re doing such a marvelous job. Have you considered joining the fire brigade?” he growled sarcastically. 

“Shut it, crow boy! I don’t see you doing anything to help!” Nina raged, peeling herself from the floor. Her dampened hair clung to the side of her face like pieces of seaweed. “In fact, I don’t see either of you doing anything! If this place burns down, I’ll be sure they’re sending you the bill!” 

With that Jesper shuttered to life. He had enough gambling debt as it was; he couldn’t afford to add damages for cruddy bakery on top it. “O-Oh, I got it!” He then sprung into action, swiping the basin from the floor and leaping over the fallen Nina. He skirted around puddles and danced over piles of broken ceramic. He made it the sink and filled the basin once more to the brim. He proceeded back towards the blaze, slowly pricking his way back along the path he had used to get there in the first place. 

“Sometime before we all burn to death would be preferable,” snapped Nina. 

“I don’t think we’re going to get another shot at this so I’m trying not to spill it, unlike someone.” He glared briefly and pointedly at Nina who clenched her fists in a familiar, but now useless fashion. Had this been a few years ago, Jesper would’ve sunk like a stone cast into a lake. 

Gerrit pushed through the kitchen doors, “Sorry about that, I-!” He promptly cut his sentence short as he discovered the state of the kitchen. The floors slick with water and ceramic shards scattered around like some kind hazardous confetti. Nina was still half sprawled out, Kaz still dripping wet, and Jesper about to pour water on a grease fire. 

Gerrit jerked forward like a puppet whose strings had been tugged. “Nononononono don’t do that! Don’t use that water!” He scrambled across the kitchen to where Jesper was mid motion; mere moments away from pouring the whole basin into the flames. He tackled the Zemeni with the force of a charging bull, knocking the wind from them both and sending crashing unceremoniously into the nearby wall. 

Jesper coughed and groaned, “Fu… ugh, what the hell kid?” Gerrit was not listening. Not in the slightest. He was gasping like a fish out of water, half clutching his shoulder as he scrambled back towards the oven. He snatched an inconspicuous can from the floor close to the oven, squinting his eyes against the heat of the fire. Gerrit ripped the lid off and it clattered to the floor. Whatever was inside, he threw it into the flames where it then backfired in an explosion of white powder. The four of them coughed and choked on the cloud until it had dispersed enough to allow the normal flow of oxygen. 

Kaz looked down at his shirt. It was still soaking wet, but in addition he was now also covered in… flour? He swiped a little from his chest and rolled it between the fingers of his gloves. Definitely flour. It had begun to mix with the moisture in his shirt and was quickly becoming a thick paste that he was sure would have cement like qualities if allowed to dry. Kaz lifted his gaze and saw Jesper and Gerrit were both in similar states. Three spectres, all the victims of a blazing inferno now left to haunt the housewives come to buy bread.

If only they had been so fortunate. 

Gerrit swallowed thickly and finally croaked, “My…. my father is going to kill me.” 

“Not if we kill him first.” 

Gerrit looked up at Kaz with a mixture of horror and appraisal, for a split moment seriously debating whether or not he should take this newly born ghost up on his offer. He didn’t. 

If only Kaz had been so fortunate.

******** 

Nina convinced- demanded, more appropriately- that Kaz and Jesper stay to aid her and Gerrit in the cleaning the Zoet Verliefed kitchen. They could have very easily ditched and vamoosed their way back to the Van Eck estate, but Nina insisted that she simply could not live without the bakery’s confections and was unwilling to burn that bridge. Kaz would’ve burned that bridge. Kaz would’ve every bridge in Ketterdam just to take back this absolute catastrophe of a day. 

By the time they arrived back at the Van Eck estate, the mixture of flour and water that covered Kaz had dried to the plaster-like consistency he had been expecting and it was just about as pleasant as one would expect. His shirt scraped against his skin and crackled with his every movement. This certainly wasn’t the first shirt Kaz had ruined, but he still mourned the loss of a well tailored piece of clothing. 

Wylan looked up from his sketch pad and immediately dropped his pencil. It rolled across the floor with a light thk thk thk before ultimately settling under the coffee table. “Oh my…” His mouth worked up and down. “What in Ghezen’s hand happened to you?” He rushed up to Jesper, furiously rubbing his hand against his cheek in an attempt to remove the dried flour paste. 

“Wylan.... Babe, please,” Jesper protested weakly, his words distorted as his cheek stretched back and forth. Wylan spoke right over him. 

“I can’t believe this! I let you off on your own for one day and look at what's happened! You lot look like you got in an argument with a baker.” 

“I wouldn’t say we got in an argument with one, but we certainly caused one some trouble.” Nina chuckled. Wylan momentarily ceased his ministrations to furrow his brows at Nina before returning to his cleaning of Jesper. This time he licked the pad of his thumb for extra cleaning power. 

“Wylan, please!” Jesper barked exasperatedly, taking his boyfriend’s wrist in his grasp. “This stuff is only coming off with one very long soak in the tub; preferably one with lots of bubbles and some champagne to soothe my frazzled nerves.” Wylan stood stubbornly for a moment, but ultimately gave up the fight and let his arm fall to his side.

“Seriously, what happened? I thought you were just going to teach him some stupid pickup lines or something. Maybe council him on which bridges give the best view of the stars, not blow up a bakery.” 

“I’d just like to clarify that we didn’t blow up a bakery, but I would be lying if I said we didn’t come close to it,” Nina chimed in. “I would also like to add that if we did it would have been completely unintentional. I would never consciously bring harm to a pastry.” Kaz, Jesper, and Wylan simultaneously cast her a look. “Y’know what… I’m just gonna go clean myself up. I’ll come back when all of this-” She gestured broadly to the boys- “is sorted out.” And slipped from the parlor assumingly to take refuge in one of the mansions many luxurious bathrooms.

With Nina gone, Wylan looked between Jesper and Kaz. He drew in a breath, on the brink of delivering a very interminable lecture, but it died in his throat and escaped as nothing more than a long sigh. “Jesper,” he breathed. “I should’ve known this would’ve happened. Your kind of romance is too much for Kaz.” 

Jesper looked nervously at Kaz and back at Wylan, “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about. We weren’t doing anything romance related. We were at uh, uh… a stake out mission with the, uh… ah shit...”

“The Black Tips.” Kaz deadpanned. He knew the jig was up, but it was at least somewhat consoling to watch Jesper try and salvage it. 

Wylan’s mouth tilted as he arched one coppery brow, “Really? So you’re telling me that Kaz didn’t ask for your help romancing Inej and that you weren’t teaching him that silly move where you pretend to yawn and then somehow conveniently end up with your arm around me?” 

Jesper gaped at Wylan, slack jawed. He glanced helplessly at Kaz who only blinked tiredly at him. 

“Oh, I knew what you were doing the whole time,” he chirped. “I have to admit, Kaz, I’m baffled as to why- out of all of us- you thought Jesper was your best ticket to winning Inej.” 

Jesper clutched a hand to his chest in afront, “Wy… Wylan, you wound me! Have I not been a perfectly loving boyfriend to you?”

Wylan chuckled pressing the curve of his palm into the shape of Jesper’s cheek, “Of course you have and I love all those silly, romantic things that you do for me. I love when you recite me poetry or use your revolvers to write obscenities in my father’s portraits,” Kaz quirked a brow at that. “But those are things that work for us Jesper. Our relationship is our relationship. What we do won’t work for everyone.”

Jesper pressed his lips together, considering Wylan’s words. After a few moments he sighed defeatedly, “You’re… you’re right. All this time I was trying to teach Kaz the sorts of things I would do for you, but that’s not right. Inej isn’t you and Kaz definitely isn’t me.” Kaz’s frown deepened, but this time Jesper paid no mind as he was busy entwining his fingers with Wylan’s. “Boy, I always knew you were smart, but this is ridiculous."

Wylan smiled shyly, “Well, when books aren’t an option you tend to read people.” 

Wylan and Jesper turned to Kaz, but he was already gone as quick and silent as the wraith that ensnared his heart.

***************

Kaz found a water pump tucked into a narrow space behind the carriage house and stopped to clean the mess from his face. His skin was pinkened and raw by the time he had managed to scrub off the tacky mix of flour and water, but he at least he no longer looked like a ghost. His clothes, however, he could not do much about. Kaz buttoned up the length of his coat to hide to worst of it and sauntered from the grounds of the Van Eck Estate.

Kaz retreated south towards the place where the Barrel gave way to the last dregs of Ketterdam. There was a secluded bridge over the canal he liked to frequent when he needed a place to think free from all the responsibilities that bound him. He glowered down at his reflection in the canal. It was distorted and malformed in the water’s current. That was what he was. Distorted. Malformed. Broken. Cold. Ruthless. Monstrous. Creatures like him weren’t meant for things so human as love. The most human thing about him was his foolishness. Foolishness is what had driven him here and he loathed himself for acting upon it. 

He swiped a stone from the bridge’s path, hurling into the water with a great splash. “Fool!” he cried to no one in particular. Not really to himself. Not really to the saints or to Ghezen. Perhaps most to the void where he supposed all unheard cries went. 

When the water’s surface became placid once more, Kaz saw Inej peering back at him. Her eyes were unfathomably dark as if he could fall into them endlessly. He groaned and clutched the railing of the bridge, pressing his forehead against the grit of the splintering wood. His mind had been plagued with thoughts of her for so long that he had at last been driven mad enough to see her visage in the sordid waters of the canal. “Saints,” he rasped. “Cure me of this madness or strike me where I stand. I can’t take this any longer.” Only silence greeted him and he closed his eyes in defeat. There was no deliverance; not even divine retribution. There was only Kaz and his madness and the phantom in the water. 

“I’m sorry, but I believe the saints are feeling far too benevolent to commit murder today.” Kaz’s heart leaped into his throat. He couldn’t even take in a breath around its girth and it made his lungs ache. There, on the bridge behind him, was Inej Ghafa. Live. In the flesh. No less a phantom than Kaz himself. She stood with the same knife sharp posture; both incredibly graceful and frighteningly intimidating. 

“You are foolish.” The edge of her voice was hard. Serrated. The edge of a blade sharpened against a stone. “Foolish to have forgotten that all walls have ears. Imagine if you had, perhaps, admitted to your greatest weakness.” Her eyes shone with knowing. 

Kaz unwittingly stepped back. A first for him since he was not a man often caught off guard. “W-what are you doing here? You weren’t due back until the week’s end.” 

Inej arched a dark brow. “Goodness, I really must have been gone too long.” Lacing her fingers behind her back; she stepped forward towards the edge of the bridge where Kaz stood. Her steps were lined and measured as if even now she walked the highwire. Graceful. Powerful. “Have you really forgotten how to detect the presence of your Wraith?” 

There was that word again. Your. Your Wraith. Yours, Inej. It made Kaz’s stomach tighten. He pressed his lips into a hard line. “I… I don’t know what to say…” 

“Well, isn’t that a first?” The breath of her laughter speared through his heart like a hot iron spike. A wave of gooseflesh broke over the skin of his arms. “Seems that you can’t talk your way out of every situation.” 

“So it seems…” He breathed quietly, casting his gaze to the boards of the bridge. They were withered from the moisture of the canal below. They were worn from the treads of thousands of feet. Perhaps, were he fortunate enough, the boards would give beneath him and send him plunging into the water never to resurface again. It seemed much easier than facing Inej. 

“I heard it all, you know. Everything at the Van Eck estate,” she said. Her signature braid shifted from the perch of her shoulder as she turned on the toes of her rubber soled slippers and leaned against the railing beside him. How he wished to wrap that braid around his hand, brush his thumb over those silken plaits. 

Kaz nodded barely, shifting his weight to the side furthest from her. She smelled of salt air and quiet, star-filled nights. He pictured her perched atop the tallest mast of her ship, her dark hair loose of that braid and draped about her shoulders like a cloak of shimmering silk. The Goddess of Lost Things. The Queen of the Night and Sea. 

“And what of it, then…?” he asked quietly. He rapped the steel tip of his cane against the planks in a broken staccato. Nervous energy crackled under his skin. 

“Of your current lack of charisma, or…?” He only looked at her gravely and her eyes shone once more with that knowing glint. She was only teasing him. Unlike Kaz, Inej was no fool. She breathed a soft sigh through her nose. “I’ve told you once before, Kaz. I will have you without armor, I will not have you at all.” Her gaze was steady and fathomless and she held Kaz in absolute rapture with it. He remembered. He remembered the last time she had spoken those words as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. Only this time was different because she was looking him in the eye. She had grown bolder in her time away from Ketterdam. She was more sure of herself than she had ever been in his company and it left him hopelessly intimidated. It made him desperately proud. “I will not say it a third time. I want you to understand that.” 

Dread slithered in his stomach like a serpent. What was he to do? He had let Inej go once before and he had been living with the regret of it ever since. He had been young, then. Sharp edged and hungry and unwilling to yield to her requests out of ignorance. He was older now. Wiser. He knew what he wanted and here was the opportunity presented to him on a silver platter and yet it had not grown any easier. But he had to tell her. 

It would eat him alive if he didn’t. 

Kaz pushed off from the railing; leaving his cane resting securely against it. He squared himself in front of her, his mouth set and determined. “Inej…” He breathed her name quietly; hallowedly. “I am not a good man. I am not humble, I am not honest. I am not aimable or empathetic. I have built my life on the foundation of deception, bloodshed, and revenge and I don’t have much intention of living differently. I know nothing else now, however…” He pressed his lips together. 

Words were failing him now. They rushed through his head in a flurry of blaring traffic. Every time he took one in his grasp it slipped between his fingers like water through a cracked glass. Kaz specialized in threats- in bargains and deals- not affections. What if he said the wrong thing? What if he offended her. His chest ached with panic. With desperation. Desperation to make her stay; to make her see. 

Realization dawned on him like a crack of thunder. There was only one way to win over Inej. It didn’t involve charming smiles or snuggling on park benches. It didn’t involve music or poetry or elaborate gestures like homemade waffles. There was only one thing Inej wanted from him and it was the most dangerous gift he could give. 

Shallow, rapid breaths rattled in his ribcage. Perspiration was beading at the line of his dark hair. His hands trembled as he hooked his fingers into the wrist of one glove and slowly peeled it away. He let it flutter to the wooden planks beneath them and the other followed soon after. They were sad, withered creatures without his slender fingers to give them life. Inej watched him all the while; her eyes dark and steady. The air on his skin was foreign and the chill of it sent a shudder up his spine. He felt naked. Exposed. Weak. 

Kaz flexed his fingers, testing their dexterity without the hindrance of his gloves. He looked up at Inej who regarded him with the same steady curiosity as she had before. This was not the Kaz that she was familiar with. “I want to,” he rasped. She inclined her head towards him, listening more closely to his words. She looked at him from under the fan of her lashes and it made his heart flutter. “I want to… touch you. Would that be alright?” Just as much as Kaz struggled with his own inner sickness, so too did Inej. He did not want to do anything that would make her uncomfortable. 

Inej nodded her head. 

Kaz kept his movements slow and deliberate. It was just as much for himself as it was for her. There had been a time where he had been better, when he had been able to hold her hand without the barrier of his gloves. The passage of time and her absence had resensitized him to the touch of others. It was like learning to walk all over again. Kaz raised both hands; his palms up and fingers splayed. A magician with nothing up his sleeves. He breathed as deeply and evenly as he could, bringing his hands to hover on either side of Inej’s face. He could feel the radiating warmth of her skin and it made his stomach squirm with a mix of pleasure and disgust. He tried to ground himself as best he could, focusing on the sturdiness of the planks beneath his feet. He was on the bridge. Not in the harbor. 

“Kaz,” she uttered softly; trying to rein him back from the place she knew his mind wandered. 

“A moment… please,” he rasped. Give me the chance, he added wordlessly. He sucked in another breath and steadied himself. He closed the distance between his hands with the shape of Inej’s cradled tenderly in the middle. She stiffened only slightly. Something that would have gone unnoticed had he not known her so intimately. It melted away a moment later and she leaned into the curve of Kaz’s touch with a nearly inaudible sigh. 

It drove him wild. 

Kaz tentatively arched a thumb, caressed the pad of it ever so softly against the apple of Inej’s cheek. Her skin was pliant, but not the sagging, spongy thing all his nightmares insisted it would be. It was warm and sent his whole body into a burst of fever. It was as if he were lying under that bridge so many years ago; his body aflame with the Queen’s Lady Plague. Black starbursts appeared in his vision and he had to fight not to be dragged back down into the memory. 

Inej did not break her gaze. What at first had been intimidating was somehow becoming comforting. She was like a lighthouse shining bright at the shore of a stormy sea guiding him home. Kaz moistened his lips and slowly leaned forward; pressing his forehead against hers. “Rietveld,” he breathed quietly. Inej blinked at him quizzically. “My name… my true name is Rietveld. Kaz Rietveld.” Her gaze flickered briefly to his shoulder, making the connection between this and the seemingly aimless tattoo that stained the skin there. “One day… one day I promise to tell you… to tell you how I became Kaz Brekker, but for now I hope that my name will suffice. Think of it as collateral.” 

Her smile was a soft and tender thing, nearly unnoticeable by anyone who did not know her. “It’s nice to meet you… Kaz Rietveld.” No one had spoken his true name in years and the sound of it struck him with unexpected poignancy. Hearing it in the smooth hush of Inej’s voice only made it more so. 

Despite himself, he found that he had started smiling. It was a weak and fragile thing, but it was perhaps the most genuine one had made in all his life. He moistened his lips once more, “I… I want to kiss you. Would that be alright?” Her lips parted slightly in silent invitation, but Kaz still waited for affirmation in the bow of her head. 

Kaz stroked his thumbs over Inej’s cheeks; acquainting himself further with the feel of her skin. Desensitizing himself. Preparing himself for the next step. He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, following its deep curve. A shudder coursed up Inej’s spine and it made Kaz burn with desire. He had spent countless nights imagining this moment. He had spent countless nights awake, tossing and turning in his bed for want of her; his mind alight with the thought of what her lips would feel like. 

Inej did not move. She stood there were her hands still laced gingerly behind her back; her face cradled between Kaz’s bare hands. Her eyes had slipped shut and her lashes fluttered with the ebony gloss of crows’ wings at the tops of her pinkened cheeks. Kaz’s heart hammered a frantic rhythm in his chest as he further closed the gap. Further and further until nothing more than a hairsbreadth remained between them. 

And then at last they met. 

The two drew in sharp breaths; the meeting of their lips as achingly nerve wracking as it was anticipated. This moment was never meant to be a moment for them; the forces of the universe had robbed them of that long before their paths had ever crossed. Phantom hands tugged at them, urging them to push distance between themselves. It was tempting; to retreat back into the comfort and familiarity of distance. But Kaz was a fighter. Inej was a fighter. And now that they had finally fought their way into one another’s arms, they would not so easily be broken apart. 

Inej’s hands unlaced from behind her back and came up to twist in the material of Kaz’s sleeves. Her nails grazed the skin of his forearms and he shuddered, but did not pull back. For the first time in his life, his head broke above the surface of the water. In the rot, there bloomed life. There was only the balmy crush of Inej’s mouth against his own and the exuberant thrum of their heart beats. It had made him more daring and in the heat of the moment he even went so far as to card his hands through the silken sheaf of her hair. 

When they at last separated- foreheads still pressed against one another- Kaz was reeling. The world rocked around him in the warm and pleasant way that being drunk did. It blurred at the edges, pushing everything out of focus save for the Suli girl in front of him. He returned his hands to her cheeks and stroked them tenderly. Her skin was sweet and supple and he reveled in the feel of it. He swore nothing had ever felt so wonderful. 

“I love you,” he whispered, unwittingly. It had slipped from his mouth before he had the chance to stop it and for a moment, he tensed. Life had trained him to expect the worst of every situation and one brief moment of triumph was not going to make up for that. The worst, however, never came. Instead Inej smiled wide and bright. The Queen of the Night and Sea. The Empress of his heart. 

“I know, I’ve always known... but it was still nice to hear you say it. Sometimes even monsters and wraiths need the reassurance that someone loves them."


End file.
